


Rescue

by Aloe_kun



Series: First Meetings [1]
Category: Don't Starve (Video Game)
Genre: Blood, Blood and Injury, First Meetings, Flower Crowns, Gen, Headaches & Migraines, Inspired by Roleplay/Roleplay Adaptation, Muteness, Rescue, Sleep, Snacks & Snack Food, Trust
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-15
Updated: 2019-04-15
Packaged: 2020-01-14 14:03:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18477742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aloe_kun/pseuds/Aloe_kun
Summary: Wes is finally rescued, by none other than the gentleman scientist himself.





	Rescue

Wilson had done it, finally. Mined the damned statues, defeated every forsaken monster that came after him as a result, though he'd picked up more than a few scratches in the process. He panted softly, grip on his spear loosening minutely. 

At least the captive had seemed glad to see Wilson, smiling and tapping on the walls of whatever invisible container he was trapped in. 

He finally saw - well, didn't strictly see, but it was rather obvious- the walls of box fall away. With the other leaning rather heavily on the wall, he fell forward as it disappeared, hitting the dirt. He began to walk over, putting his spear away in the holder on his back. He didn't want to scare the other off, not after all that.

Wes had never been so glad to see somebody in his entire life. 

He'd been watching with bated breath while the other had been fighting, but, despite his eagerness for the other to help him, he couldn't help but feel a twinge of guilt every time one of the monsters landed a hit. Had he been able to speak, he would have cheered the other survivor on, but his actions probably spoke for him, anyway. He was good at that. 

Wes tumbled forward onto the ground as the walls of his invisible prison fell down; definitely undignified, but it wasn't as if that was something he cared about at the moment. Blinking rapidly, he just sat on the ground for a moment, taking it in. 

He was free. He was actually free. Who cared if he was still stuck in Maxwells little game, he could move! 

The mime shook his head a little, snapping himself out of it. He couldn't go getting too excited now, not when he didn't know what his saviours intentions were. Wes looked up at the other survivor, a small, nervous smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.   
Even if he could speak, he wouldn't of had to to show how grateful he was; his eyes were enough, full of gratitude and barely contained joy. 

He hadn't quite registered how...odd he felt. Yet. For now, he was putting it down to his excitement, and nerves.

Wilson gave a quick cursory glance around for any more threats before kneeling down in front of the other with a small smile on his lips. He placed a hand on the man's shoulder, looking him in the eye. He was glad to see the gratitude in them.

"Are you alright?"

Wes nodded. He couldn't help being acutely aware of how close the other was, and the feeling of the survivor's hand on his shoulder. It was comforting. 

God, how long had it been since he'd touched someone? 

That dizzy feeling was still nagging at him from the back of his mind, but he was too distracted by what was happening to pay it too much mind.

Wilson raised an inquisitive eyebrow as he withdrew his hand. The other looked a little unsteady.

"You're certain?"

The mime nodded again, and moved to stand up. 

And almost immediately dropped back down, stumbling and falling. The dizziness that had been nagging at him increased tenfold the second he tried to stand, shooting pain in his skull and forcing him back down to his knees. A gloved hand came up to hold his head, a confused, pained expression plain on his face. What on earth was wrong with him?

"Hey now," Wilson fretted. "Don't push yourself."

Wilson's concern was obvious, worry in his eyes as his hands gently held the mime's upper arms. It looked as if the man was in pain, and with no obvious injuries. "Could you tell me what's wrong?"

Wes was just as clueless as the other survivor, the only response he could offer being a shake of his head and a half-hearted shrug. 

Wilson stood, offering his hand to help the other up. "We should go back to my base, you need some rest."

Wes took it, leaning heavily on the other as he stood. The pain in his head only intensified; he'd barely been standing for a few seconds before the pain and nausea overcame him, and he blacked out. Wilson caught the man as fell forward, pulling him into his chest with an arm. He should have guessed this might happen. Manoeuvring somewhat clumsily, he managed to bundle the other up in his arms. He couldn't help be surprised at how light the man was, even taking into account the fact that most people would lose a little weight in this hellscape of a world. He began walking back the way he came somewhat briskly, not wanting to be caught by some monster while he couldn't defend himself.

When the mime finally came to, the pain he'd felt previously had dissipated, and he was lying next to what he assumed was the other survivor's fire. He opened his eyes, glancing around a little. He shut them again quite quickly. It was dark, and that meant a whole host of things: and none of them were good. 

Wes forced himself to snap out of it, reopening his eyes. He was right next to a fire, for god's sake! There wasn't any reason to be scared! But he couldn't help but feel a little unnerved by the surrounding darkness as he sat up a little, blinking and rubbing his eyes.

Wilson looked up from what he was doing, smiling at the mime. He was glad to see his companion(?) awake, if a little disorientated, but seemingly no longer in any pain. He shifted to be angled towards the other man, keeping his body language open. He'd studied psychology for a while, and knew all about how to appear unthreatening.

"Ah, you're awake! That's good, I was beginning to worry." Wilson glanced over the other, but he didn't seem to be in any discomfort. "Feeling any better?"

Smiling, Wes nodded. He was actually quite surprised by how much his head had cleared; he was expecting a headache, at least. He gestured to the other, one eyebrow raised and a concerned look on his face.

"Me?" Wilson realised he must have been referring to his injuries. He'd treated the worst of them, though he'd glossed over a fair few smaller ones, not wishing to use up his medical supplies too much. "I'm alright, really."

Wes was sceptical and with good reason; there was blood, still wet, smeared on his arm and soaking into his long gloves. He gestured to the survivor again, then pointed to his own arm in a mirror of where the other's injury was.

"Oh?" Wilson looked at his arm, wiping the blood away with a gloved hand. He chuckled softly. "That's nothing. You needn't worry yourself. In any case, your wellbeing is more important to me at the moment." He leant forward slightly. "Do you need anything?"

The mime thought about the question briefly. Sure, he could use some food (and god did he feel hungry,) but he'd hate to ask anything much of the man, not yet anyway. He could just look for some himself once the sun wiped the dark from the land; the other survivor had done enough for him already, freeing him despite the monsters that had to be killed to do so. 

The mime shook his head, but mere moments later his body betrayed his words, his empty stomach noisily voicing it's complaints.

Wilson chuckled softly, a low and pleasant sound from the back of his throat. He smiled at the mime as he reached into a nearby chest.

"You needn't be shy." He chuckled softly. "Just a moment, I'll get you something."

He rummaged through the chest for a moment, pulling out a handful of berries and some jerky he'd made a few days prior. It wasn't a lot, but he could go hunt and gather in the morning. In the meantime he offered the food to the mime.

"There you go. That should keep you going for now."

Wes took the offered food gratefully, smiling at the other. The mime ate quickly, almost as if he hadn't in years; a statement which wasn't actually an exaggeration. He had never been hungrier as long as he could remember, so it was no surprise that he finished quite fast. 

Honestly, it was a wonder he didn't give himself hiccups.

"So," Wilson inquiried. "Can you talk?"

Wes shook his head, his gaze trailing to the fire as he avoided eye contact. He almost looked guilty, though he'd done nothing wrong.

"Not a talker then. That's fine, no need to be upset now. It's hardly your fault."

He couldn't help but be a little disappointed that his newfound companion couldn't speak, but it didn't really matter in the end. He could remember a little sign language, plus the psychology degree he had under his belt would definitely come in handy for reading his body language.

Wes smiled again; a little shy, but he was quickly warming up to the other man. 

He pointed to the other with one eyebrow raised, hoping that he might understand his question.

"Me?" Wilson blinked quickly a couple of times, but soon realise what the mime meant. "Oh, my name?" The scientist beamed, doing the closest thing he could to a small bow while sitting down. "Wilson P Higgsbury, at your service."

Wes mimed a silent chuckle, hiding his mouth behind his hand. He extended the other to shake Wilson's hand; he seemed the type to appreciate a formal(ish) handshake. Wilson took the offered hand and shook it firmly with a smile.

"So, what's your name? Is there a way you could tell me?"

Wes hesitated a moment. How would he tell him? 

The mime's face lit up as he figured out how he'd go about giving his name, and it was evident that he was quite pleased with himself; despite how simple his solution was.   
He wrote his name in the dirt in front of him, spelling it out carefully: 

W  
E  
S

Wilson paused for a moment to read the writing in the dirt, then looked up from it to the mime.

"Wes?" He almost asked, and then smiled. "Lovely name."

The mime looked away, covering his mouth with his hand again. If you looked carefully, he looked almost embarrassed, and you could just see a real blush on his face behind the makeup.

Wilson turned back to what he'd been doing before the mime woke up, humming softly. He catefully wove the flower's stems together into a ring, securing the shape so it wouldn't fall apart. He looked over his work briefly, before giving a small nod, satisfied with the wreath's quality. He leant back over to Wes, crown in hand. 

Who knew how long the man had been left in the dark? If Wilson had been in the other's position, he'd have been scared insane long ago. The flowers weren't much, but they'd certainly help put Wes at ease.

"Here." He reached up for a moment, settling the crown on top of the mime's head. Silently, he was quite pleased with himself; it seemed to fit perfectly, despite him not working from any measurements.

Wes giggled silently, one hand coming up to touch the wreath that Wilson had made for him. He felt strangely at ease, considering how dark it was; the moon wasn't even out to cast it's dull glow. Sure, he kept stealing glances around him into the dark (just to be safe), but he definitely wasn't as nervous as he might have been. 

The scientist was being awfully nice to him, and he couldn't help but feel a little bad that he had nothing to give back to him as repayment. He couldn't even talk...

"There, a nice crown to go with a nice name." Wilson sat back, smiling widely at the mime. Wes looked positively adorable. "Suits you perfectly."

He chuckled a little. After being alone for so long in this frankly terrible world, it was nice to see something cute for once.

1y ago 

Wes couldn't stop blushing, covering his face with his hands. It was almost surreal; here they were, in a world where practically anything could kill you in all manner of ways...   
...but it this man with him was so nice!

Wilson turned to face the fire, letting out a gentle huff of breath. Putting his hands out behind him, he leant most of his weight on them as he let his head tilt back. He looked up at the sky, curious to see if he could pick out any familiar constellations.

"It's surprising quiet tonight..."

Wes nodded briefly, gaze darting around in the dark. 

And it was probably good luck on Wilson's part that the mime was so cautious. 

He spotted the tendril coiling around the scientist's wrist before the other had even felt it, quickly reaching over and yanking Wilson's hand away from where it had been placed in the dark. In his panic, he might have been a little rough, but it wasn't as if his haste hadn't been without reason- Wes had developed quite the fear of the dark from all the years he'd spent trapped, but he'd gained a good understanding of exactly what it was capable of in the process. 

Maybe it was just him, but he was laughing on the inside; the scientist's words had certainly been ironic.

"Ah!" Wilson let out a little hiss of pain, the sudden movement sending a jolt up his arm. He was a little startled, not sure why the mime had grabbed him. He looked at Wes, one eyebrow raised and head cocked to the side. "Wes?"

Still holding the other's wrist firmly, the mime gestured to the dark. With any luck, he'd understand.

Wilson frowned at the shadows, then turned back to mime and nodded knowingly. Not even a minute after he'd commented on the peace, it'd been disturbed.

"Ah, right after I said that too..."

A little nervous smile formed on the mime's black lips, and he let go of Wilson's arm. Wilson smiled back, tucking his legs under himself and keeping his hands safely in his lap. He leant forward briefly to put another log on the fire.

"Thank you, Wes." He chuckled nervously. "I owe you one."

He watched the log as it caught, glad to see the circle of light around them growing. He fiddled with his gloves, feeling a little giddy from the adrenaline that had shot through him (though it was quickly fading).

Wes made a gesture as if to deny he was owed anything, waving his hand in a motion as if he was cutting his neck.   
It was the least he could do after the other freed him. He practically owed Wilson his life, and what he did was barely a fraction of what the mime owed.

Wilson yawned quietly, stifling it behind a gloved hand. He glanced towards the mime.

"Say, have you rested enough?"

Wes nodded. He had no idea how long he'd been out, but he felt well-rested either way.

"That's good. "Would you mind keeping watch while I sleep for a bit?"

Wes agreed quickly, smiling. He was honestly quite happy that he was being trusted enough for Wilson to essentially put his safety in the mime's hands.

"Thanks. Wake me if you need anything, ok?"

Wes nodded in understanding. Wilson gave him a tired smile as he lay down, stuffing his backpack under his head as he let his eyes close. He was sure he could trust the mime to watch his back.

 

 


End file.
